Thunderstorm
by ladymarycrawley
Summary: Mary has been frightened of storms since she was a child. A story that spirals from that really! One I wrote in one go in a couple of hours trying to avoid uni essays... :S


A thunderstorm raged outside, whipping leaves high into the air, the windows rattling ferociously in their panes. Lady Mary Crawley sat up in bed wide awake, wrapping the sheets tightly around her in a desperate attempt to feel safe and protected. A huge roll of thunder crashed; it sounded like the end of the world and Mary nearly jumped out of her skin with the force of it. Lightning tore the sky viciously apart and a huge gust of wind forced her window open, sending a blast of icy cold air rushing through her room, blowing out her bedside lamp. Mary was on the verge of tears as she bravely jumped from her bed to battle with the window, trying to close it as the rain pelted hard against her face and her thin white nightdress. She pulled it shut and let out a deep breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding in. Mary slumped against the floor in the corner of the room as the storm picked up and the wind screamed through the trees like tortured ghosts screaming their sins. She huddled in a ball in the corner, trying to make herself as small as humanly possible. Mary had always been terrified of storms ever since she was a child, but never sought comfort from others. Besides, if Edith were to find out, there would be no end to the cruel mocking. As for Sir Richard... she could just imagine his self-satisfied face, looking down his nose at her and her fear. She was Lady Mary Crawley; sophisticated, poised, never showing weakness to the outside world. So she cowered in her room, tormenting herself with thoughts that she was going to die and praying, praying that the storm would end soon so she could finally have some peace and tranquillity.

After a few minutes, using all the strength she possessed she pushed herself up, feeling for the walls in the dark to guide her to the door. She couldn't stay in her room anymore, she decided, it felt like she was trapped in her own tomb. As lightning cracked and thunder roared overhead, she made her way cautiously through the cold, dark house, feeling her way. The darkness was just beginning to overwhelm her when she saw a dim warm glow coming from the library. Perhaps Papa was still awake, she thought. The thought of seeing her kindly father soothed her fear a little. She fumbled for the doorknob and slowly turned it, not wanting to frighten the Earl. As she came into the softly lit room, she saw Matthew alone in his dressing gown. Her heart sank; she'd tried to be so careful, avoiding being alone with him for months now. He turned around, opened his mouth and closed it again like a fish.

"Mary? What are you doing up?" he inquired with a puzzled look.

Mary suddenly became acutely aware of being dressed only in her thin nightgown, the sleeve of which was slightly slipping off her, revealing her bare white shoulder. Her exposed toes curled in embarrassment and she blushed as he gulped slightly and drank in the sight of her.

"Oh, I...uh... just wanted something to read. I couldn't sleep."

Matthew noticed her flinch as a gigantic roll of thunder seemed to shake the floor beneath their feet.

"Are you quite alright?"

"Of course!" she said with false cheerfulness and one of her dazzling fake smiles. Matthew saw that she looked scared; her bright smile contradicting her dark eyes wide with fright as she shivered slightly in the cold library.

"Good God, Mary! You must be frozen."

Her breathing accelerated slightly as he began to untie the cord of his dressing gown, sliding it off and wrapping it around her. She was shocked at how quickly he had placed it around her, hardly touching her at all. It was still warm from his body and the smell of soap, of books and of _him_ emanating from it comforted her a little from her fear of the storm which was still battling against the walls of the Abbey. She wandered over to the shelves, pretending to look for a book to read, when Matthew became aware that she winced every time a flash of lightning lit the sky, throwing eerie shadows for a split second and every time the thunder clapped. He tiptoed over to her, not wanting to alarm her.

"Mary? Are you sure you're alright? You seem distressed."

"No... no, I'm perfectly alright."

Her voice was unsteady and a barely detectable quiver in her reply made her sound as though she was on the verge of tears. Matthew's heart swelled with tenderness and love for her. She always tried to be brave, to put a good face on things, but underneath the facade she was still so vulnerable. He went to put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, but just then, the most almighty roll of thunder smashed, as though God himself was tearing the sky down in rage and bringing it down over their heads. Mary was unable to keep composed any longer, she screamed and clung to Matthew. As the thunder rolled on and on ceaselessly, he held her shaking body against him, holding her head to his chest as the rain continued its attack against the windows. He gave a slight smile down at the dark head his hand was gently stroking, the waves of her loose hair cascading down her back like a waterfall. He could still smell a trace of the perfume she had put on earlier in the day and it wafted lusciously, temptingly into his nostrils. He closed his eyes and breathed her in, his heart pounding harder and harder as she still clung in fright to him. He imagined Richard's reaction to Mary's fear, his cold laugh and smug smile. He was certain Sir Richard would have no sympathy for Mary when she was married, there would be no comforting caresses for her, only disdain. These thoughts made Matthew clench his fist and alleviated any guilt he might have felt at holding Richard's fiancée so close to him. Holding her felt like the most natural thing in the world and it took all his mental strength to stop himself from kissing the smile back into her beautiful face.

"Is it the storm, my darling?" he murmured.

She nodded against his chest, taking comfort and refuge in his strong arms. As the thunder began to fade, Matthew gently sat her down on the sofa and sat by her side. Mary was mortified by her sudden outburst and stared up at the bookshelves away from him. Matthew wanted her to know that he didn't think she was weak or silly, that he understood her.

"I couldn't sleep either. I was a little afraid of the storm too. It reminds me of... the noise... I couldn't stop thinking about..." Matthew faltered as he tried to convey the horrors of war that still flooded his memory.

His change of tone made Mary turn to him, her heart melting, aching for the horrific things he must have seen and heard. She slowly placed her hand on his and they caught each other's gaze; a spark of understanding and compassion between them. Another bolt of lightning forked through the air and Mary clutched his hand harder as the electricity failed and all the light drained from the room. It was pitch black; they became instantly more aware of the heat of each other's bodies. The heavy breathing, the tender touch of their hands all seemed heightened in this inky darkness. Matthew didn't care about himself and his fears anymore. All he could think about was protecting Mary from her terror and calming her.

"Don't be frightened," said Matthew softly.

Mary paused for a second.

"I'm not frightened when you're here with me."

The words unlocked Matthew and he felt for her, finding and cradling her cheek, soft like velvet. He heard her nightgown rustle as she moved towards him and his mouth found hers, Mary giving a hum of contentment. They moved together as one, his arm curled around her slim waist and he lay her down on the sofa, kissing her passionately, not knowing where to touch her first. He kissed her neck, her collarbone, nibbling at her ears and her lips. As he gently took her lip and bit it, she moaned; the blood was rushing in her ears, thoughts swirling madly around her mind. She couldn't see him but she could feel him, stealing kisses from her swollen lips and she gasped as his kisses became teasingly soft down her neck. He slowly untied the silk ribbon at the top of her nightgown, the caress of the ribbon stroking her skin as he pulled it from the holes. They had never felt each other like this, bodies pressed together with only thin nightwear separating them; corsets and jackets were no longer an obstacle to their exploration of each other's bodies. He smiled as he began to kiss her from her neck down, down past her collarbone. She stifled a cry of pleasure as his hot tongue trailed over her. A burst of lightening lit the room up as bright as day just for a second and Matthew saw a flash of Mary, her head lolling back, eyes closed in bliss.

All of a sudden, a door slammed making the two of them jump apart, fearful that they had been discovered. They sat still for a moment as quiet as mice. Matthew broke the silence.

"I think it was just the wind," he whispered.

"Yes," said Mary with a nervous laugh, tying the ribbon of her nightgown and the cord of Matthews robe.

"Perhaps we should try to get some sleep?" he suggested, trying to drain all his erotic thoughts away.

"Will you...will you walk me back to my room?" Mary said quietly, shaking as the rain began to pelt even more fiercely. He groped in the dark for her hand and discovered she was quivering in fright again. Each held the other's hand tightly as they left the library and began feeling their way up the stairs. Matthew was in front as they got to the top of the staircase and he exclaimed,

"Do you know, I have no idea where your room actually _is_."

Mary took the lead, leading Matthew down a side corridor.

"It's just down here."

She opened the door and they went in. She lit the bedside lamp and he saw her bed, the sheets rumpled from where she had been lying earlier. He noticed there was a teddy bear nestled in the pillows.

"Who's this?" asked Matthew with a grin.

She snatched it up.

"That's Ted," she replied indignantly. "When I was a child, he used to look after me whenever there was a thunderstorm."

She smiled sheepishly. Matthew could hardly bear how sweet the scene was before him; a scared Mary clutching her childhood toy. He took it from her grasp and placed it carefully down on the bedside table.

"Now you have me to look after you," and he touched his lips fleetingly against hers, savouring the feel of it. "Mmm...you better try and get some sleep."

He reluctantly let her go and she got into bed; he tucked the sheets around her and placed Ted on her pillow.

"He can look after you for now though."

As he went to leave, Mary's panic returned.

"Please ... please don't go."

"Mary, we can't...I mean I, I want...but we can't..."

Mary blushed fiercely, hoping he couldn't see her heightened colour in the low light.

"No, I know, but... please could you stay here with me?"

She tried to sound casual but her eyes were imploring him to stay. Her vulnerability and her beauty in the glowing dim light were irresistible. He pulled up a chair to her bed and laced his fingers through hers.

"If it makes you feel safer, Mary, I'll stay here all night." He smiled at the relief flooding back into her face, her features softening a little. He blew out the lamp and settled back into the chair. As the gale howled again, Mary's hand gripped his almost painfully. He stood up and kissed her forehead to calm her.

"It's alright, Mary. It's alright, my darling, I'm here and _nothing_ will happen to you, I give you my word."

He felt a rush of air as she lifted up the covers and, instinctively understanding that she needed someone beside her, he lay down, tucking the sheets around them and pulling her close so her back was pressed against him. He placed one arm over her to keep her secure and they began to drift into sleep. Mary's breathing was slow and regular as she finally slept and Matthew, not yet brave enough to tell her properly, softly spoke in her ear;

"I love you."

To his surprise, Mary turned around, her eyes heavy with sleep and she drowsily whispered the words back to him. She nestled her head into his shoulder and both satisfied and supremely, sleepily happy, they fell into a contented sleep for the first time in years.

Matthew awoke first the next morning, marvelling at his legs intertwined with hers. He could feel the slow rise and fall of her chest as she dreamed. He desired her, but he restrained his feelings, holding her close and kissed her eyes and cheek affectionately. She woke at his touch and gave a sleepy sigh of longing. He propped himself up on his elbows and leaned over and in to her. As she opened her eyes, shining with love when she saw him, he kissed her full on the mouth. A very different kiss to the one they shared last night in her bedroom; one of desire and heat. He was in her bedroom and he was surrounded by the scent of her. He wanted her badly and his kiss deepened until both their heads were spinning with it. She began unbuttoning his nightshirt, running her fingers over his broad chest. They didn't notice the click of the door opening until they heard a scream of shock. They looked over in trepidation to where Cora was now slumped in a chair by the door. They heard the sound of footsteps running towards them and a shout of,

"What on earth is going on?"

As the Earl entered his daughter's bedroom, he took in the scene. Mary lying in bed with Matthew, her hair dishevelled and Matthew's pyjama shirt unbuttoned.

"Good God! What is the meaning of this?" he roared. Matthew jumped out of Mary's bed with some speed when he saw her fuming father enter the room and hurriedly began fastening his buttons, missing one so his shirt was all askew.

"Well you see, sir... I ... uh..." Matthew fumbled for words, _any _words that would make this situation better. Nothing logical came to mind.

"What in God's name have you been doing in here with my daughter!"

"No, no, really we... I mean we didn't ... we were afraid of the storm." Matthew cringed as he heard the childish sounding excuse fall from his lips.

Robert, incensed, took two steps towards Matthew. Mary cried out.

"Don't blame him, Papa! I asked him to stay."

Robert turned on her.

"_You_ asked him to stay? In your bedroom? An unmarried woman, in bed with a man who not only is not her husband, but is not even her fiancé?

As Robert uttered the words, the sounds of more menacing footsteps came their way.

"I heard shouting, so I thought perhaps I should come and hel..." Sir Richard's eyes narrowed as he saw Matthew standing in Mary's room in a poorly buttoned nightshirt.

"What, dare I ask, are you doing here, in _my_ fiancées bedroom?" Richard drawled in his usual bored and slightly menacing tone.

Matthew threw his hands up. "This is ridiculous, nothing happened!" he exclaimed.

"You're damn right, it's ridiculous! Right, outside, Crawley."

"Oh really, you're going to fight me, are you?"

Robert interjected as he saw the two men glaring, nostrils flaring with anger and pride.

"Please, there are ladies present. I'll thank you to be civil to one another. Sir Richard, it seems as though your engagement with my daughter is at an end. There is nothing to be done and fighting Matthew won't sort out this mess."

Robert smiled a sudden smile; realising that this sorry situation had rid them and Mary of Sir Richard's odious company.

"Bad luck old chap. I'll have Carson pack your things and take you to the station."

"So I am the one that has to pay the price for Crawley and his slut?" Richard roared.

Matthew was by Richard in milliseconds, grabbing him by his collar and slamming him against the wall. Sir Richard spluttered and turned slowly purple as Matthew held him against the wall by his throat.

"You ever call her that again and I'll tear your head from your neck and feed it to ravenous dogs," he hissed through clenched teeth.

He roughly released him and Sir Richard gasped for air as he stumbled out of the door and out of their lives.

The earl, holding up his wife and beginning to lead her from the room, glared at Matthew in a firm but now in a slightly more kindly sort of way. He really had despised that awful newspaperman.

"Matthew?"

"Yes, sir?"

"You damn well better marry her now."

And he left them alone once more.

Matthew and Mary turned to each other and each burst out laughing with the absurdity of it all. He came and sat on her bed and kissed her deeply.

"_Will_ you marry me?"

"Yes," Mary breathed.

"Well then."

Matthew gave a mischievous smile as he pressed her back into the mass of pillows, stroking the length of her long legs up to her thighs and grinned as he bent his face down to her, his breath tickling her lips.

"I'd better give my fiancée a taste of what her married life will be like..."

The time of darkness and fear was over; now it was morning and a new day, a new beginning.


End file.
